


Red Sky at Morning (Spies Take Warning)

by Sam4265



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Spy Stuff, they met before Revan basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam4265/pseuds/Sam4265
Summary: He said he'd loved her since the moment he saw her, but that wasn't over holo on a sinking ship. No, Theron Shan and Cipher Nine had crossed paths once or twice before.
Relationships: Female Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Red Sky at Morning (Spies Take Warning)

The first thing he noticed about her was how tall she was. He’d always heard that Chiss were tall, but she was near his own height. He had a second to think _a woman that tall must make a terrible spy_ before he was pinned against a wall with a vibroblade against his throat. Her eyes were the second thing he noticed. They were just so red, like a Sith lightsaber. No pupils, just red. He’d never met a Chiss before, and he’d never seen anything like it. 

“You’ve been watching me, handsome,” she said, her accent smooth and enchanting. Her mouth was so close to his. Her lips were painted with dark blue lipstick, almost navy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he smirked. She tilted her head to the side, and her blade slid down his neck, shaving stubble off his chin it was so sharp. 

“If you’re looking for a good time, you’re looking at the wrong woman,” she said. Theron shrugged. 

“Who says this isn’t my idea of a good time?”

“A knife at your neck?”

“It happens so often, I must be into it.”

She laughed a little, one black eyebrow arching delicately upwards, and stepped back. 

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, handsome. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours.”

“My face and I appreciate your generosity.”

As she stepped back they took stock of each other, each assessing the caliber of their clothing, the silk of her crimson dress, the fine threads of his charcoal suit. They were there for similar purposes, no doubt, and the quality of their disguises spoke of government funding.

“Imperial intelligence?” He asked. Her blue lips quirked. 

“Lovely to meet you, SIS,” she said, holding out a blue hand wrapped in diamond bracelets and ruby rings. Imperial Intelligence clearly had better funding than the SIS. Either that or she was taking money on the side. Considering the moral alignment of Imperial Intelligence, Theron would bet on either. 

“I assume you’re here to kill Vonlin?” Theron asked as he shook her hand. 

“Just as you’re here to protect him, no doubt,” she replied pointedly. Theron shrugged. Vonlin was a corrupt member of the Imperial senate. Recently he’d begun taking bribes and selling state secrets. Theron was there to make sure Vonlin kept breathing and subsequently kept selling those secrets to the Republic. 

The woman in front of him was there to silence Vonlin. 

“Shall we go in together, then?” She asked. Theron held out his arm. Better to keep her in view for the duration of the mission. He wouldn’t kill her until he had a reason to. 

She wrapped her arm around his, crimson nails resting delicately on his forearm, and he was given a peek at the strength behind her deceptively lithe figure. 

“Such a gentleman. And what do I call my date for the evening?” She asked. Together they began to walk out of the alleyway and back onto the street outside the club. They were on Nar Shaddaa, which was no surprise to either of them. Nar Shaddaa’s unofficial slogan was _Land of the Corrupted_.

“Janun Kynn,” he said. 

“Liada Reka,” she replied. 

“Pretty name.”

“That _was_ why I picked it.”

It was almost refreshing, he thought, to meet another professional. Oftentimes the “spies” he ran into were undercover for cartels and syndicates. They were pitifully easy to dispose of and always completely unprofessional. He appreciated that she respected him enough not to bother trying to kill him. They were evenly matched; best case scenario they’d fight for hours only to end up in a stalemate. 

Together they walked into the club, and the slow sultry music hit them all at once. A smattering of Shaddaaran elite littered the club, each of them covered in candy colored jewels that glittered in the neon club lights. Theron might have felt out of place on his own, but with this woman - Liada, for now - on his arm, he couldn’t help but feel like he belonged. She certainly looked like she did. No matter how she truly felt about this place, she looked perfectly at home in it. 

They made their way around the room, crimson silk fluttering around their feet as they walked. They made their way first to the drink table, where Theron plucked two crystal glasses of Alderaanian wine, and handed one to Liada. She took a small sip and smiled. 

“I never cared much for wine until my first trip to Alderaan,” she said. Theron nodded.

“I typically prefer something stronger, but Alderaanian wine is something special,” he agreed. 

“So, what are you planning to do with Senator Vonlin when you do find him?” Liada asked. Theron side-eyed her.

“Trying to learn a little something about the SIS while you’re here?” He asked. She shrugged delicately, the silk of her dress rising and falling with the movement of her shoulders. 

“I imagine you’re not going to kill him, given that he’s so very full of vital information, but how ever have you decided to keep him away from nasty little things like me?” She asked, all wide red eyed innocence. Theron took a large sip of his wine, letting it burn down his throat. 

“Telling you how I plan to keep the senator safe sort of defeats the purpose of it, don’t you think?” 

She shrugged again, “Just trying to make conversation.” 

She polished off her drink and set the glass back down on the table. Almost as soon as she moved her hand away a servant appeared from out of nowhere to retrieve the glass, and then was gone just as quickly. The music slowed and Theron held out his hand. 

“Who needs to talk when we could dance?” 

She shot him an unimpressed look, but took his hand nonetheless. He led her out onto the edge of the dancefloor, a nice little circulating vantage point from which they could see almost the entire room, including most of the other guests. He put his hands on her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck. He shivered a little. Her hands were warm, not to the point of being uncomfortable, but noticeably warmer than a human’s. 

Together they swayed gently to the music, eyes straying all the while to observe the other guests in the room. He could never tell where she was looking, an unfortunate side effect of pupil-less red eyes, but surely she could tell that for most of the dance his eyes flit dexterously from guest to guest. 

“You know, it’s rather rude to be shopping around while dancing with a woman,” she said. Theron looked down at her. For all he knew her eyes were watching the couple behind him, even as she chastised him for doing the same, but something told him they weren’t. No, something told him that she was looking right at him.

“I’d hate to be rude,” he smirked. She tilted her head a little, black hair swaying gently with the movement, and gazed up at him in a way that could only be described as loving. She was incredibly well trained, even by his standards. 

“No, of course. You’re the consummate gentleman.” Her hand crept up his neck to cradle his chin, her thumb brushing against his cheek. He felt caught in the depths of her eyes, in the scent of her skin. His hands clenched on her hips and he wondered momentarily if she was coated in some sort of pheromone, but quickly dismissed the idea as it wasn’t necessary in a simple assassination. 

“Would you like me to be?” He asked. This time when she smiled her full lips split and little white teeth showed through.

“Actually I find I prefer the roguish types,” she said. “A little danger never hurt anyone, right?” 

He pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her skin as one hand worked its way to the open back of her dress.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he replied. Suddenly the slow song ended, and a jazzier, more classically cantina-esque song began. They stayed where they were standing, feet frozen to the floor, eyes locked on each other. Her thumb brushed just below his eye, and Theron saw the flash of blue as it swept over his skin. 

The spell was broken when they heard her fake name called across the room. 

They turned to see a woman wearing an elaborate headdress and a gown that was more skin than fabric. She spoke with the sort of high pitched nails-on-slate tone of someone desperately lacking in intelligence.

“Your contact?” Theron asked. Liada hummed. 

“Unfortunately.”

“Liada!” The woman rushed over to them. Though Theron was a little embarrassed to be so caught up with a rival agent, Liada was unabashed, and didn’t move away from him. No, instead she only turned in his arms to face the woman walking toward them. Theron’s left hand remained at her waist, and she made no move to change its position. 

“Mirana, darling,” Liada said. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“Liada! I’m so glad you made it! You look amazing, as always,” Mirana said bitterly. “I _knew_ I made the right call inviting you.” She turned unnaturally purple eyes on Theron. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Janun Kynn. Janun, this is my dear friend, Mirana Ouwen,” Liada introduced. Theron held out his hand and Mirana shook it, stroking his wrist with her pointer finger as she did so. 

“An absolute _pleasure,_ ” she purred. Liada chuckled lightly, but Theron could see the tension behind her eyes. 

“Now, now, Mirana, I’m sure you have a date of your own.” 

Mirana waved her off. 

“Yes, but he’s so dreadfully dull. Daddy got him from some country estate on Dromund Kaas. Can you imagine? He’s not even from Kaas City!” Mirana seemed grievously offended by such a thing, and Theron bit back a laugh.

“Maybe you haven’t given the poor fellow a chance,” Liada suggested. Mirana sighed. Her eyes locked once more on Theron, and Theron could practically see her licking her lips. 

“Who needs him when I’ve got Mr. Kynn here?” She asked. Liada chuckled again, this time stepping between Mirana and Theron, whose hand finally fell from her waist. 

“Mirana, don’t make me get territorial on you. It would be ever so unfortunate to have a tiff at such a dazzling event.” Her voice was smooth and melodic, lilting in a way that made Theron want to listen closely for what came next. He liked hearing her talk. Still, he should probably help her. 

“Don’t worry, dear, you know you’re the only woman for me,” he said, winking at Liada. She pursed her lips to hide a smile. He turned back to Mirana, who seemed a little surprised at his lack of accent. 

“You’re not Imperial?” She gasped, scandalized and intrigued in equal measure. Theron shook his head, a devil-may-care attitude settling in place as he adapted to what Mirana found intriguing. 

“I’m nothing special,” he said. “Piracy’s the name of my game, but don’t spread it around too much. I’m looking for a place to unload some of my more, uh, _unique_ items. Liada here told me she could introduce me to some prospective buyers.” 

It had worked. Mirana was doubly interested now. In fact she was practically frothing at the mouth for a chance with him. These Kaas City girls were all the same: dreadfully bored by Kaasian men, and endlessly excited by anything otherworldly. 

“Oh, forget Liada, I can introduce you to the very _best_ buyers. I know a man with more money than there are banks to hold it, you’ll love him!” She wrapped fluorescent purple nails around Theron’s wrist and pulled him from Liada’s grip. Liada frowned and her red eyes narrowed at Theron. A challenge, then. Whoever got to Vonlin first, won. 

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Liada, dear? I’ll be back soon,” he said with a roguish wink. She waved him off.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she said. “I’ll make my own fun.” She broke character a moment to say it, and Theron was momentarily worried about how many of the party-goers would actually make it out of the club alive. For a moment he considered sticking by her side, if only to minimize the bloodshed Imperial Intelligence was famous for, but he decided against it. She was a professional, clearly. She wouldn’t cause undue damage, he was sure of it. 

Instead he walked off with Mirana on his arm, Liada’s red eyes burning a hole in the back of his head the entire time. 

“So the first person you should meet is Darnun Kalus. He’s a pirate too, he knows all the best places to sell,” Mirana said. Theron wrinkled his nose. 

“Meeting a rival probably isn’t the best way to start business here,” he said. Mirana blinked at him a few times, before breaking out into a vapid smile. Her lips were painted red, fully on top lip, and only a line of it on the bottom lip, as was the modern fashion. Liada’s had been painted fully. 

“Right, of course! How silly of me! Well, then you should probably meet Senator Vonlin. He’s always up for buying shady things from less than reputable sources.” She winked conspiratorially at Theron, and he winked back. She blushed under her makeup and giggled at him. He swept his arm out gallantly. 

“Lead the way,” he said. 

Mirana led him through the club to a back room full of dusty older men - human mostly, but some aliens among them - sitting around playing Sabaak. She led him past the tables, but he did his best to make mental notes of the faces he saw there, hoping that perhaps one or two would prove useful. 

He thought again about getting an eye implant to help with this sort of thing. It would be extremely useful in recording and transmitting visual data. His mother would probably hate it as it was further evidence that he wasn’t a Jedi, but if anything that was all the more reason to get an implant. 

He forced himself to focus. His mother was the last thing he needed to think about while on a mission. 

Mirana led him all the way through the Sabaak room to a locked door in the back. She pressed the intercom on the side and asked for Vonlin. 

“What? What do you want?” A dry irritating voice answered. 

“Senator? There’s a very nice pirate man here to see you. He says he’s got some merchandise for you,” Mirana said. Theron was both surprised and unsettled at how smoothly this was going. Though, to be fair, he had pilfered Imperial Intelligence’s contact. 

“Tell him to fuck off!” The voice snapped. The intercom cut out and Mirana looked at Theron sheepishly. Ah. Not so easy then. 

“Sorry, he’s not good with strangers. If you have something I can go in and show him, then he’ll meet with you,” she said. Theron had the sudden fleeting thought that he was being played, but he dismissed it fairly quickly. Liada had been none too excited to see this woman, and if nothing else Theron trusted her judgement. 

“Sure,” he said. He pulled a counterfeit copy of the famed Mustravan Ruby from his jacket pocket. He’d kept it on him as part of his cover story. It wasn’t worth much more than a couple credits on the outside, but it was all he had on him to negotiate with. 

Mirana’s eyes bugged out when she saw it, and she took it gently from his grasp. 

“It’s huge!” She gasped. Theron grinned at her. 

“Be careful with it,” he said. “If it breaks you’ll be the one paying for it.”

Mirana nodded reverently and hit the intercom button again.

“Senator, I’ve got a big ruby for you to look at. The pirate man’s selling it,” she said. There was a moment of silence, and then a hesitant, “Come in.”

Mirana winked at Theron. 

“Wish me luck,” she said. 

“Good luck.”

The door opened and Mirana slipped inside. As Theron waited outside he looked around the room, eyes lingering on a few familiar faces in the poorly lit gloom. The men were almost all Imperial, but very few of them were at all notable. Mostly it was low level generals and country politicians. For a man with such vital information Vonlin sure did surround himself with lesser conspirators. 

Perhaps that was the point; no one in this building was more powerful than Vonlin. A shimmer in the gloom caught his eye and Theron turned to see Liada making her way toward him. All heads turned to her as she walked, lit just so by the Sabaak table lights. 

She stepped up to Theron and put her hands on his chest. 

“Darling, where has our mutual friend run off to?” She asked. Theron nodded his head toward the door. 

“She’s speaking to the Senator on my behalf,” he said. He spoke quietly, as most of the room was still watching her. He didn’t really think they were listening in on the conversation, purposefully or otherwise, but their eyes and therefore their ears were tuned in to Liada. 

Liada, who raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Is she now?” She asked. Theron nodded. 

“Well then I suppose I must find a new way in,” she said. Theron felt a thrill run through his blood. _This_ was the job, the real job. Thwarting an assassination attempt, and against such a talented and dangerous assassin. She would be a real challenge for him, and he found himself excited by the prospect. 

She kissed him lightly on the cheek in a smooth goodbye, her lips brushing softly against his stubble, and then strut from the room. Her dress trailed behind her, the silk like water in the gloom. Theron watched her go, and then looked back at the doorway. It occurred to him that it had been a while since Mirana left. He pressed the button on the intercom.

“Mirana?” He asked. “I’d like to talk to the Senator myself if I can.” 

There was no answer and Theron sighed dramatically. 

He’d been played. Of course. He debated breaking in, but knew immediately that it would be pointless. This was obviously a distraction set up specifically for him. Instead he rushed out the door after Liada. 

When he got back to the party she was nowhere to be seen and he cursed. 

“I’m smarter than this,” he muttered, deeply offended on his own behalf. He was too good to let himself be distracted by a pretty face, and yet there he stood, alone and missing both the senator and his counterfeit ruby.

Theron looked around the room and saw multiple exits. If the senator wasn’t in the back room then where would he be? Surely Liada’s distraction had given her enough time to figure it out, so he had to work fast. His eyes flit from guest to guest until they landed on one of the servers; a young man with poorly styled hair and acne scars. Theron sighed internally and made his way over, stumbling a little as he went. 

“Hey kid, I’m meeting someone here. Tall, blue, red eyes, hard to miss?” 

The boy started and looked around nervously. 

“I’m not supposed to talk about the Senator’s friends,” he said. Theron cursed artfully.

“Damn that woman. She’s always leaving me out to dry. Listen, I’ll slip you fifty credits if you can tell me which way she went. I’m not going to let her make a fool outta me with some kriffing senator, you hear me?” Theron employed his best gravelly danger voice and the boy looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded frantically.

“Right, yeah, it’s just, the senator’s my boss, you know?” He asked, his voice barely more than a squeak. Theron wrinkled his nose. 

“Come on, kid, man to man. That kriffing senator is stealing my girl! A hundred credits?” He asked. Somehow the boy’s eyes grew even wider and he nodded again, his head bobbing stupidly. He held out his hand and Theron slapped down a hundred credit chip. The boy pointed off to one of the neon lit doors that read _lounge_. 

“She went that way. The senator has a private- uh- _office_ back there. It’s the last door in the back.” 

Theron nodded and thunked the boy on the head. 

“Thanks kid,” he muttered. He moved quickly across the dance floor, dodging spinning couples at every turn. He slipped through the lounge door and found himself in what could only be described as a high class brothel. There were all kinds of military types mingling with pretty girls of varying species. Theron bypassed all of them headed directly for the last door at the very back of the room. 

When he got there the door was locked. He huffed through his nose and got to work slicing the door controls. It took him a minute; the locks were good. 

When the door finally swished open Theron hurried inside and closed it behind himself. The room he stepped into was small and dimly lit - mood lighting - with a small desk, a big bed, and little else besides. 

The senator lay on the bed, and Theron felt an unpleasant churning in his gut at the sight of the man sprawled out listlessly on the plush sheets. He could be asleep, or blissed out, but more likely-

“He’s already dead.”

Liada stepped out from the shadows, a small silenced blaster in her hands. Theron watched as she lifted one leg of her dress and strapped the blaster to the inside of her thigh. He sighed.

“I can’t believe I fell for that Mirana crap,” he muttered. Liada shrugged. She was completely composed, not even a hair out of place. The senator must not have been fighting very hard, not that Theron was surprised. 

“It’s not your fault. I’m very convincing,” she said placatingly. She stepped towards him, and Theron felt his hackles rise. His eyes dropped to her hands, keeping them in sight. She chuckled and held them up. 

“If I keep my hands up can we have a civilized conversation?” She asked. Theron gestured to the dead man on the bed. 

“Not like I have anything better to do.”

She quirked a smile. 

“No, I suppose not.”

“Talk away. Let’s see if you can come up with a good reason for why I shouldn’t kill you,” Theron smiled sharply. He kept his eyes on her hands the entire time. 

“Well considering both our missions are already complete, there’s really no logical reason for us to fight any longer,” she reasoned. 

“While that may be true, I think I’d get a pretty hefty bonus for bringing in an Imperial Agent. What about you?” He asked. 

“I suppose I’d receive the same for bringing in an SIS agent, but must we really end such a lovely evening with a fight? I’d hate to ruin this dress.” 

Theron made a considering face, and then half a second later he pounced. He wrapped his arms around her head and wrestled her into a choke hold. She gasped and before he could pin her arms down she reached back and grabbed his cock in a vice. He grunted and loosened his hold on reflex, giving her enough room to slip from his fingers. 

They backed away from each other, pulling out knives as they did. 

“If you ruin this dress I’ll never forgive you,” she said. 

“I won’t lose any sleep over it,” he replied. 

As one they pounced on each other, slashing and dodging in equal measure. Theron was right, they were equally matched. They matched each other blow for blow, their fighting styles complementary and in perfect synchronization. When he struck low she struck high, and they both dodged the opposite. 

He outmatched her in strength, but she outmatched him in speed and they ended in stalemate after stalemate. 

Theron reached for her hair at the same time she reached for his neck. They caught each other, knives at each other’s throats, a final stalemate. They were both panting a little, eyes locked on each other; Theron’s pupils dilated while her eyes glowed red. Everything felt warm, and her skin was scalding. 

Theron crushed his lips to hers, and she gave back as good as she got. They kissed hard and rough, teeth and tongues clashing in their adrenaline fueled haze. 

Theron heard the knives drop. He hadn’t even realized he’d let his go. The hand not tangled in her hair wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer. Her fingers dug into his suit jacket, and they clutched at each other, getting as close as they possibly could. 

Theron clenched a fist in her hair, tugging her head back so he could kiss down her neck, sucking and biting bruises into her skin. She moaned as he went and he felt himself grow hard. He pressed insistently at her and they fell back against the wall. He took her hands and pinned them above her head as he sucked a bruise into her neck. His free hand fell down to her breast, squeezing roughly through the fabric of her dress.

“Janun,” she cried, throwing her head back. 

“Theron,” he said, against all sense. She looked up at him with half lidded eyes. 

“Fehnn,” she replied. He smiled and kissed her again, tasting the wine still on her lips. 

He grabbed her thighs and lifted. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her dress bunched up at her hips, and he pinned her back against the wall. They kissed like fighting, hard and relentless, each trying to dominate the other. 

“Theron,” she moaned again. He moved his left hand to her ass, and with his right he reached between them, deft fingers finding her pussy in seconds. Her breath caught as he worked his way inside, rubbing at her clit with his thumb even as he curled his fingers inside looking for that special spot. 

She jerked in his arms when he found it, and Theron grinned into her neck. Her breathing turned to desperate pants as he worked her faster and harder. Finally he moved his fingers just _so_ and she came apart in his arms, trembling even as she cried his name. 

She clung to him for a moment, arms wrapped around his neck as she moaned through the aftershocks. She tapped his arm and he set her down on unsteady legs. 

In seconds she had his pants undone, and was pulling his cock out of his briefs. She smiled when she saw it, and winked at him before getting down on her knees. 

Theron had seconds to prepare himself before she took him into her mouth and down her throat. He choked as she bobbed up and down on his cock, sucking hard at the head before going back down. 

He didn’t last much longer than she did. He tightened his grip on her hair in warning and then came down her throat. 

She sucked him dry and then tucked him carefully back into his pants. He winced at the oversensitivity. 

She stood back up and leaned back against the wall. They watched each other, both breathing hard and unsure of where to go from there. 

“I have a hotel room on the Promenade,” he offered. She smiled slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He tried not to think too hard of the snakes on Dromund Kaas that wrapped themselves around you before they killed you. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said. 

They left Vonlin’s body for his servants to find and snuck out of the party. Nobody thought much of their leaving, it was clear from the wrinkles in their clothes and the mess of their hair what they had been doing, and if nothing else it gave them an alibi. They slipped out of the party to the taxi service right outside Vonlin’s block. They sat in the back and Theron wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she tucked herself into his side.

“Upper promenade please,” he told the taxi droid, and then they were gone. 

The next time he saw her was on the arm of a broad-necked Twi’lek in Portho the Hutt’s palace on Tatooine. She was dressed drastically different from last time. Her hair was knotted up in some intricate stylized braid, and her loincloth and wrapped top had clearly come from the slave pens. He was dressed differently too: smugglers clothes, nothing special. He’d actually had most of the items in his closet already. 

He bowed before Portho the Hutt. 

“Most gracious Portho, I bring you-” _listening devices to plant in your palace_ “-the finest spice this side of the galaxy.” 

“That is a bold claim, smuggler,” Portho bellowed in Huttese. “What makes this spice the finest?” 

“It’s already been cut and refined by our dear Imperial friends,” Theron said. Fehnn’s gaze grew sharp and Theron couldn’t help the little smirk that slipped onto his lips. “It’ll make for adrenals that even _you_ haven’t seen the likes of yet.”

Portho looked excited, his monstrous tongue licking at his lips. 

“Do you have a sample?” He asked. Theron looked wryly at Fehnn, remembering the last time he’d given up a sample to one of her contacts. She arched her neck in a shrug and Theron had to make himself look away.

“Of course, mighty Portho, but only a small one, you understand.” 

The Twi’lek with his hands all over Fehnn said something to her, and she nodded demurely at him. He stood and took the small adrenal injector from Theron and injected it into one of Portho’s stubby arms. Portho’s pupils dilated to slits, and he made a chilling gurgling sound that must have been a moan.

“The smuggler’s right. These are good adrenals. Pay him what he wants.” He commanded. The Twi’lek man nodded to Theron and led him away from the crowd to a back room to do business. Fehnn followed diligently at his side. 

“I am Lev’ta, I do business for mighty Portho. How much per pound for your spice, smuggler?” The Twi’lek asked in basic. Theron had to wonder if perhaps Fehnn was pretending to only speak Huttese. He couldn’t think of another reason why Lev’ta would conduct business in the presence of a slave. 

Theron began haggling prices with Lev’ta, all the while he set up a listening device beneath the desk where Lev’ta did business. Fehnn stood behind Lev’ta for the duration of the conversation, and finally towards the end Theron took a chance. 

“I must say, a Chiss slave is so rare, even among the Hutts. What would it cost to buy her for the night?” Theron asked. Fehnn gave him a sour look behind Lev’ta’s shoulder, but was once again timid when he looked back at her. 

“Oh, yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she? Came in our last shipment from Imperial space. Tell you what, you can have her for the night if I can take five pounds off the top.”

“Done,” Theron said quickly. He ignored Fehnn’s quick smirk. Lev’ta took his cut off the top and handed Theron the control to Fehnn’s shock collar.

“You probably won’t have to use it with this one, but just in case,” Lev’ta said. 

“Right,” Theron replied, picking up the controller like it would bite him. 

Lev’ta showed Theron to a back room with a lock and left him and Fehnn alone. Together they searched the room for listening devices and found three which Theron proceeded to short out. Then he used the control to power down her shock collar and removed it from around her neck. She rubbed at the spot where it had been, her skin sore and purple. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked casually, leaning up against the bed frame. Fehnn crossed her arms and raised a pointed eyebrow.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said. Theron snorted. 

“Fair enough. I’m after something Portho has,” he said. 

“What a coincidence; so am I.” 

“Well this isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Fehnn moved to kiss him, and Theron let her. It was softer this time, nothing like the hurried brutality of last time. 

“I’m after an SIS agent gone rogue,” Theron said. 

“I’m after that stock of Imperial spice you brought with you,” she replied. 

“What a coincidence.” 

“I don’t suppose you’ll try to stop me?” She asked between kisses. 

“Not if I know what’s good for me. Besides, the spice is Portho’s now. I don’t care what happens to it.” 

“In that case, since we’re not actually at odds on this one, care to work together?” 

Theron leaned back to look at her. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. 

“I think that’s probably the smartest play,” he said. 

“Mm.” She smiled slowly. “I’m all about practicality.” 

“In that case, do you know where Portho keeps his prisoners?” 

“As a matter of fact I do. We can go tonight. What about you? Any idea where he’s keeping that spice?” 

“I installed a listening device in the crates just in case he stored prisoners he’s planning to sell into slavery with the rest of the cargo. I’m sure we can work out where it is from that,” he said. Fehnn kissed him again. 

“You are ever so clever,” she said. 

“I wasn’t last time.”

“That’s not your fault, I’m smarter than you.”

Theron snorted a laugh and kissed her again. The kiss grew deeper and he had to physically hold himself back. 

“Time to get to work,” he said. She looked like a cat who’d caught the cream. She knew exactly what she did to him, and she dropped her gaze down to the hardening lump in his pants. 

“Don’t worry, we can have sex when we’re done,” she said. Theron grinned. 

“You always know just what to say.” 

He grabbed the bag he’d brought with him and pulled out a pad loaded with the listening device’s software. He began to play through the recording and as he did Fehnn cracked open a grate in the wall and pulled her own go-bag out of it.

“How’d you know to stash that there?” Theron asked as he listened to Lev’ta go over the shipment’s information with Portho’s other managers. 

“This is my quarters,” she said. Theron looked around at the big spacious room with the silk sheets and the plush mattress.

“You are supposed to be a slave here, right?” He asked, suddenly unsure. 

“I’m not _just_ a slave, I’m Portho’s most prized slave. He’s very accommodating,” Fehnn said. Theron really didn’t want to know exactly why Portho would be accommodating to a slave, so he remained pointedly silent. 

Fehnn pulled sleek black clothes from her bag and then, before Theron’s eyes, she stripped bare, dropping the slave disguise to the floor with a particular disgust. Theron watched unabashedly as she changed. He booed when she put her shirt on and she shot him a half hearted glare. 

“Running around naked isn’t exactly the most practical thing when it comes to espionage,” she said. 

“I dunno, you’d make an excellent distraction that way,” he said. 

“Darling, I’m always an excellent distraction,” she replied tartly. He could see the truth in that. 

She was wrapping her hair into a bun when the Lev’ta finally started talking about where to store the shipment. 

“Store it in Warehouse Three with the other special items. I don’t want anyone stealing it,” he said. Fehnn sighed. 

“That sounds promising,” she muttered crossly. 

“Don’t worry,” Theron said placatingly. “It just means target practice.” 

She smiled. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” 

Theron pulled his shirt off and began rooting around for his black jacket. Fehnn put a hand on his chest and bit her lip.

“It’s a pity we have to wait until _after_ the mission,” she said. Theron took her hand in his. 

“Don’t worry too much,” he said. “The adrenaline only makes it better.” 

Her eyes grew heated, glowing a deeper red than usual. He’d done some reading up on Chiss after their first encounter, and he knew that the redder her eyes were the more oxygen she was taking in. To translate: the redder her eyes were, the hornier she was, at least in this circumstance. 

White teeth bit into a blue lip.

“I’ll have you know I expect the very best from all the men in my life,” she said. Theron pouted. 

“What, you’re telling me I’m not special?” He asked. Neither of them were under any illusions as to the sanctity of their relationship. They were spies; polygamy was in the job description.

“You’re something.” She kissed him hard and then ripped herself away from him. “Now put some bloody clothes on.” 

He wasn’t imagining the purple flush in her cheeks. Theron smirked as he pulled his jacket on over his head. 

Finally they strapped their weapons on. Knives and blasters each, and Fehnn slung a sniper rifle over her shoulder. Then they set out into the darkness that was a Tatooine night and crept through Portho’s lands to a group of warehouses disguised as a little collection of homes. Each one housed a set of guards that patrolled their designated warehouse, and the part of the house that dipped into the sand led to an underground tunnel. The warehouses themselves were actually underground to protect the merchandise from the various dangers of Tatooine: predators, sandpeople, and scorching heat among other things. 

“The prison is underneath the seventh house,” Fehnn said. 

“It would be more practical to get my agent first,” Theron said. “He can help us smuggle the spice out.” 

Fehnn nodded and together they crept through the sand to the third house. They holed up behind some rocks and Fehnn looked through the scope on her rifle. 

“There’s six guards inside, almost certainly more underground. I can get some with my rifle, but the rest will spook,” she said. 

“I’ll go in on foot. You watch my back?” Theron asked. 

“Always,” she replied. Theron felt his heart clench and he wondered if one day she would say that and mean it. 

He crept forward, steps muffled to silence by the sand, until he was right outside the house. He was in like a shot, slicing the throat of one guard before the others even had a moment to be surprised. Two of them stood up, but were shot down again by sniper shots. Theron silenced another guard, but the next one knocked his knife from his hands. The man opened his mouth to scream for help, but a blaster bolt shot through his forehead before he could get a word out. 

Finally it was the last guard - who had the good sense to keep out of sight of the windows - and Theron. 

Almost quicker than the eye could see Theron drew his blaster and shot the last guard in the chest. He looked out the window. He couldn’t see Fehnn in the cover of darkness but he knew she was there. He motioned forward with his hand and waited. 

He saw her eyes first. Always with those red glowing eyes. 

“Let’s go,” she said, the consummate professional. They stuck close to the stairs as they headed down to the lower level of the house. There were only two guards here, guarding both entrances to the prison. Theron shot one with a silenced blaster, and Fehnn shot the other with her rifle.

“Do you know the cell number?” She asked. 

“Thirty-three” Theron replied. Fehnn started toward the entrance on the right and Theron followed close behind her. 

“There’s only fifty cells here,” she explained. Numbered one through fifty and moving left to right, cell 33 would be closer to the entrance on the right. She needn’t have explained it to Theron, though. Somehow, against his better judgement perhaps, he trusted her. 

They continued on through the second entrance and found themselves facing a small elevator. Theron hit the button for the second level and they began to descend. 

“You’re good with a blade,” Fehnn remarked. Theron nodded to her rifle. 

“And you’re a damn good shot with that thing,” he said. Fehnn practically glowed at the praise.

“I was the best shot in the Ascendency,” she said. Of course she was speaking of the Chiss Ascendency, a sort of isolationist Chiss Empire in the Unknown Regions. Theron wondered how long she’d spent there before moving on to the Empire.

“And in the Imperial Academy after that,” she continued. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Theron said, delighted by the pride she showed in her work. It wasn’t often that he met someone with the same sort of passion for the job that he had. 

“What about you?” She asked. 

“What about me?” 

“Best shot in the SIS Academy?” She asked. Theron shrugged.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t really do the whole academy thing.” No, instead he’d been raised and trained as a Jedi. Of course, he’d been taught espionage techniques and how to shoot a blaster after joining the SIS, but they’d never sent him to the Academy. They’d considered his Jedi training to be a suitable substitute for most of what they taught there. The thing about spy work was that you learned most of the non-technical skills on the job. Or at least Theron had. 

She looked at him sideways. 

“I won’t ask, but just know I am relentlessly curious,” she said. Theron smirked. 

“I don’t doubt that either.” 

“I could always hack into your file.” 

“It’s been redacted.”

“What has?” 

“My file.”

“The _whole file?_ ”

“Are you saying yours isn’t?” 

She pouted but didn’t reply. 

Finally the elevator began to slow, and both of them held their blasters up as it finally reached the bottom level. Two guards stood before them, but two silenced blaster bolts took them out easily. They crept down the hall slowly, and with their blasters up the entire time. They had to kill five more guards before finally they made it to cell 33.

The door was shut and locked.

“Cover me,” Theron said. He didn’t need to look at Fehnn to know she would. He simply hunkered down and began the delicate work of slicing into the cell door without alerting the alarm system.

The door cracked open and Theron looked up to see his fellow agent leaning back in his cot. Akeub Anevue was a big burly looking Zabrak. They often sent him undercover in cartels because he played a good lunkhead bruiser. Unfortunately Portho had caught him snooping around one night. Portho had been so out of it on adrenals that Akeub had thought he was asleep. Unfortunately Portho was cognizant enough to think he was being robbed. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Shan?” Akeub asked. Theron spared a moment to wonder if Fehnn had heard him, and what it would mean if she had, but swept the thought aside. He had to focus. 

“I’m here to break you out laserbrain,” Theron muttered. “Getting caught by Portho the Hutt on an adrenal binge. I’m telling you now, you’ll never live it down.” 

Akeub sighed. 

“Believe me,” he said. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.” 

Theron grimaced but didn’t tease him any further. To a spy getting caught was just about the biggest offense they could fathom. Getting caught by a Hutt on an adrenal high was just sad. Theron helped Akeub to his feet and out of the cell where Fehnn stood still on guard. 

“You got him?” She asked. Theron nodded. 

“Good let’s go.” She led them out, rifle at the ready the entire time. 

“And who’s this?” Akeub whispered as they hurried down the prison hall.

“Imperial Intelligence,” Fehnn replied. 

Akeub shot Theron a deeply concerned side-eye.

“We’ve struck up a mutually beneficial bargain,” Theron said. 

“I don’t even want to know what kind of mutual benefits you found with the Imps,” Akeub muttered darkly. 

“It’s actually not that bad,” Theron replied sheepishly. 

“And here I always thought you’d spontaneously combust if you ever got within three feet of an Imp.”

Theron coughed uncomfortably as Fehnn looked back at him sharply. 

“Is he Mister Patriot?” She asked. Akeub and Theron exchanged a glance. It had less to do with him being Mister Patriot and more to do with his parents being who they were, but Fehnn didn’t need to know that.

“I thought so,” Akeub said. “Looks like the spy’s got secrets.”

“What a surprise,” Fehnn muttered. Akeub watched her carefully, and Theron found himself wishing they’d gone after the spice first. 

When they finally made it to the elevator Akeub was able to stand on his own. He rolled the kinks out of his shoulders and cracked his thick neck. 

“Those damn cots are for the akdogs,” he muttered. Theron frowned sympathetically, but Fehnn was unfazed.

“The worst bed I ever slept on was on a farm on Dantooine,” she said. “It was just a wire frame with a big rock for a pillow.” 

Akeub wrinkled his nose. 

“Apparently the Hutt’s have some decency then.”

“I’ve enjoyed my accommodations immensely,” Fehnn replied. Theron thought about her quarters in Portho’s palace. Spacious and clean with soft sheets and a plush mattress. No wonder she was enjoying it. Akeub looked at Theron curiously, but Theron just shook his head. 

“Don’t ask,” he muttered. He had absolutely no desire to explain how he and Fehnn had wound up alone together at night in a Hutt palace.

The elevator stopped at the ground floor and the night was still and silent. The guards' bodies remained where they’d dropped. No alarms had been triggered. 

“Warehouse Three is four houses north of here,” Fehnn said. Akeub looked at Theron sharply. 

“What is she talking about?” He asked.

“Part of the mutually beneficial agreement we made is that we help her steal back that Imperial spice that the SIS stole,” Theron admitted. Akeub was suddenly furious. 

“Are you joking?” 

“What’s the difference between leaving it here with Portho and giving it back to the Empire?” Theron asked.

“The difference is that Portho is just going to use it on himself, the Empire is going to use it on their soldiers. You know, the soldiers currently fighting and killing the Republic soldiers?” Akeub snapped. 

“Akeub-” Theron sighed.

“No, listen to me, man. You can’t help her. She’s Imperial! Anything she does is going to hurt our side. Do you not understand that? If anything we should just kill her!” 

Fehnn looked up sharply, and Theron felt his blood boil.

“Enough!” He snarled. He stood tall in front of Akeub.

“You don’t think I fucking understand that? The only reason you’re out of that stinking shit hole is because this _Imperial Agent_ was good enough to tell me where the prison cells are. There are fourteen warehouses here, man. I could have spent all night searching them, never have found you, and been caught myself, but I wasn’t because _she_ helped me. So yeah, we’re giving the fucking spice back. Now shut up and help me,” he snapped. Akeub sucked in a deep breath. He glared again at Fehnn, but relented. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “Let’s hurry up so we can get the fuck off this dust ball already.”

Together the three of them moved silently through the desert. They came up on Warehouse Three. It was swarming with guards and advanced alarm systems. Theron sliced into the alarms while Fehnn picked guards off one by one with her rifle and Akeub brought them down with brute force and a choke hold. They worked their way through the guards on the first floor and then the bottom one. Finally they made it to the elevator where they pushed the button for the lower level. 

The lower level of Portho’s storehouse was a maze of finery and wealth. Together they moved through it, Theron tracking his listening device to lead them through. They came upon more than one guard on their way there, but Fehnn or Akeub took them out one by one with deadly efficiency.

“Never thought I’d enjoy working side by side with an Imp,” Akeub gruffed after Fehnn leapt onto one of Portho’s guards and snapped his neck with a graceful twist of her thighs. 

“Never thought I’d enjoy working with SIS, and yet here we are,” Fehnn replied. 

They worked their way deep into Portho’s storehouse. Finally they reached a door in the back that was locked. Theron sliced in deftly and they three slipped inside. 

The spice sat in the middle of the room, stacked in three large crates. 

“It’s going to be hard getting these out of here,” Akeub said. 

“If we can get them outside I can call for a droid that’ll take them to the nearest Imperial outpost,” Fehnn replied. 

“Let’s get moving then.” 

They each took a crate and turned on the hover motors. They programmed the crates to follow Theron’s pad, and then they headed toward the door. It was only then that they heard the growling. 

Fehnn heard it first. She turned sharply on her heel and held out a hand to Theron.

“Wait,” she said. Theron looked around. He could hear the growling, faint as it was, but he couldn’t find the source. 

“Akeub,” he said. “Take my pad. Get the crates out of here, call for the Imperial droid, and head to the nearest Republic outpost. I’ll be right behind you.” 

“No way, man. I’m not leaving you here in the middle of enemy territory with only an Imp for backup.” 

Theron shot him a glare. 

“I said move it, Akeub! I didn’t come all the way down here only for you to get eaten instead of rescued. Besides, she won’t kill me.”

“You seem awful sure of that Theron,” Akeub said suspiciously, his eyes hard. Fehnn huffed. 

“I may be Imperial but I do have _some_ honor, thank you,” she said primly. “Theron is perfectly safe with me.”

“I don’t know about perfectly,” Akeub said hotly. 

“Just go, Akeub!” Theron snapped. 

“Fine! But you better make it out alive, because if you don’t then I’m going to have to be the one who tells your mother what happened to you.” 

Theron waved him off. The very last thing he ever wanted to talk about was his mother. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered as Fehnn watched him curiously. 

“You’d better,” Akeub said. Theron shoved the pad into his hands and Akeub stalked off back into the depths of the warehouse. 

“Your mother, huh?” Fehnn asked as she scoped the darkness for the source of the growling, which was rapidly growing louder. They stood back to back, eyes sharp and blasters raised.

“Trust me, sweetheart, don’t ask,” Theron replied. Suddenly the growling turned into a roar and a massive rancor beast hurled itself from the gloom. They both shot at it but the armor plating was too strong, and though the blaster bolts burned the beast, it did little to stop him. 

Theron hurled himself to the right just in time for the beast to swipe at them with its claws. He heard a smattering of blaster fire and felt relief flood through him. Fehnn was still alive.

“It’s armor’s too thick!” Theron shouted. 

“We need to hit its weak spot!” Fehnn shouted back. Theron dodged another swipe of its enormous claws, rolling out of the beast’s way.

“Where’s its weak spot?” He asked. 

“The top of it’s head!” Fehnn replied. 

“ _The_ _top of it’s head?_ ” 

“I didn’t design it!” 

Theron huffed and jumped at the beast with his knife held tightly in his fist. He stabbed the knife into the rancor’s back and the beast screamed. It shook itself, desperately trying to dislodge him. 

Theron climbed his way up the rancor’s back, stabbing the knife in to haul himself up. Fehnn kept up a steady stream of blaster fire to distract the beast while it swiped at her with razor claws. 

She cried out and Theron felt his blood turn to ice.

“Fehnn?” He shouted. 

“I’m fine!” She shot back, the blaster fire starting up again. “Keep going!”

Theron snarled at the beast and stabbed his knife down harder on his next step up. When he reached its neck the rancor roared and shook its enormous head. Theron wrapped his arms around its meaty neck and held on for dear life. 

“Hold on Theron!” Fehnn shouted. 

“Believe me, I am!” 

Theron white knuckled his knife and hauled himself up the last few feet to the rancor’s head. He stabbed the knife down in the soft flesh of its skull and the rancor let out a mighty agonized roar. It stumbled a little before crashing to the ground in a great heap. 

Theron stood there, bloody knife in hand, as Fehnn appeared from the shadows. She rushed to him, her hand falling to his cheek as she looked him over. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. Theron noticed a cut on her shoulder that weeped crimson. 

“I think I should be asking you that,” he said, touching her shoulder gently. Fehnn surged forward and kissed him hard. 

“It just grazed me,” she said. “Besides, I’m always all right.” 

Theron looked at her wryly but didn’t call her bluff. He was a spy too, he was familiar with their philosophies. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. 

They stole away in the night, right out of Portho’s land. They didn’t go back to the palace. Instead they trekked through the desert straight through to a cave that rested just before a split in the road. The road to the left would take them to the Imperial outpost at Mos Anek and the road to the right would take them to the Republic outpost at Salara. 

Fehnn practically fell into a sit when they finally made it inside the cave. Theron sat down next to her and began pulling a kolto pack from his bag. 

“You don’t need to-” Fehnn began.

“I’m going to anyway,” Theron said, cutting her off. He injected the kolto into her arm before she could argue further, and her shoulders slumped as the pain bled from her body. Theron watched as the cut stopped bleeding, the kolto already repairing the damaged cells. 

He brushed a thumb over her shoulder and she looked up at him, her eyes gone soft. Theron pulled her into his arms and she settled over his lap. She looked down at him with those strange glowing eyes and he surged up to kiss her. 

It was softer this time, just as desperate, but not as much malice, not as much fight. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off, or the injuries dragging them down, but this time it was slower, deeper. Theron wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as she could get, and still all he wanted was for her to be closer. 

He kissed down her neck and between her collar bones. He pulled the black shirt up and over her head, leaving her bare before him. He kissed down between her breasts before taking one in his mouth. 

“Theron,” she sighed as he bit bruises into the soft skin. She wound her fingers in his hair and held him close. He kissed across to her other breast, hands sprawled across the smooth expanse of her bare back. 

“Theron, please,” she muttered. He nodded and pulled away. They undressed hurriedly and Theron laid his clothes out on the floor. He lay her down on top of them and kissed her hard, a claiming kiss. Her nails dug into the skin of his back and he reached down between them, his fingers trailing gently over her folds. 

He slipped two inside and she was already wet for him. He stretched her a little, and then pulled his fingers away. He spit in his hand to slick up his cock and then he pushed inside all at once. She threw her head back against his jacket, and he leaned down to kiss at her exposed neck. He thrust hard and fast, the pace building with each passing second. 

“Theron!” She cried his name over and over. He thrust hard, angling for that spot inside her. He knew when he hit it because her nails dug into his back and her teeth clamped down on her plush bottom lip. 

Theron reached between them, rubbing at the little nub of her clit. It wasn’t long before Fehnn’s back arched up off the ground. A few more thrusts and he was gone, coming deep inside her with a cry.

They lay there for a moment, catching their breath. Theron carefully extracted himself from the tight heat of her body and then slumped back on the ground. She rolled over to rest her head on his chest. 

He brought one arm up around her and kissed her forehead while she drew patterns on his chest with her fingertips. 

“I have an implant,” she said suddenly. Theron hadn’t even thought of it, the potential of an accidental pregnancy in their line of work, but thankfully, as she’d said before, she was smarter than him. 

“Okay,” he replied. They were whispering in the dark, even though they didn’t have to.

They both knew that before long they would have to leave the cave, say their goodbyes and possibly never see each other again, but neither of them wanted to. They were too dedicated to their jobs to stay, and just dedicated enough to each other to make it hard to leave. 

Theron had always been taught that the force guided life, that if something was meant to be, then the force would will it so. He found himself desperately hoping that he would see her again, and that when he did it wouldn’t be through the barrel of a sniper rifle. 

Something happened to them that night. Perhaps it was relying on each other seamlessly, like a team that had been together for years. Perhaps it was his standing up for her against Akeub. Perhaps it was the sheer terror at the thought of either one of them dying at the hands of the rancor beast. Whatever it was something had changed between them, and Theron didn’t want to let it go. 

Her body was so warm next to his that he didn’t even feel the chill of the desert night. 

“The sun will be rising soon,” she said. 

“That’ll be our signal,” he replied. When the sun rose, they would part ways. 

She closed her eyes and held onto him. Theron never let her go. 

They stayed together like that for hours, silent and still in the slowly departing darkness.

When the first ray of light breached the sky and gold cut through the gloom Theron felt his heart constrict in his chest. 

“That’s our signal,” Fehnn said, her eyes still closed. Theron rubbed circles into her hip.

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

Mechanically they stood and gathered their things. They pulled back on their clothes, covering bruises and scratch marks. 

Finally they stood together at the mouth of the cave, weapons strapped on, gear tucked away. Fehnn looked back at him, her black hair loose around her shoulders and swaying a little in the wind. She kissed him one last time. His heart broke with how softly she kissed him. She stepped away and Theron watched as she began to back up in the direction of Mos Anek. 

She tapped two fingers against her heart.

“Until next time, my love,” she said. Then she was gone, over a hill, and disappearing into the light of the early morning. 

Years later he would see her again, through a holo as the room was flooding around her. He wasn’t looking at her at first, too caught up with securing the emergency pod. It wasn’t until she said his name that he looked up. 

She looked mostly the same, skin still blue, eyes still red, a little dull in the low oxygen. Her hair was loose again, shorter than it had been the last time he’d seen her. He breathed out a sigh at the sight of her, and felt his chest fill with warmth. 

“I knew you’d come for me,” she said. She tapped two fingers over her heart and he broke out into a grin.

“Of course I did, sweetheart,” he said. “Now get inside that pod so I can kiss you again.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about sequel/one shot stuff to add to this. If anyone would like a continuation let me know!


End file.
